The first time I ever realized I was from the Midwest was I was sitting in a room, surrounded by New Yorkers, and I squealed when I saw two cows kissing one another. Cows are cute. I like flannel. Soda will ALWAYS be called pop to me. You can kick the boy out of the Midwest, but goddamn, is that buttermilk ranch flavored force within him strong as heck.
Well, I started out my morning eating a bowl of Kashi, so. I’m really taking life by the horns here. Nothing tells you that today is going to be a good day like a bowl full of fiber. Were my grandmother still here, god rest her soul, we would go on later to have a conversation about how regular my bowel movements are and just how wonderful it feels to be “normal” for once in this life.